The Story of the Archmagus: Black C Silvius
by Marluxia235
Summary: A time of war was upon the land in which made countless stories of those who saw his eyes. The eyes of the elderwyrm. The elderwyrm, who laid waste to time in the Seventh Astral Era, known as Bahamut.


The Story of the Archmagus:  
Black Crimson Silvius

Prelude:

Every story ever contains the world of those who create it. A time of war was upon the land in which made countless stories of those who saw his eyes. The eyes of the elderwyrm. The elderwyrm, who laid waste to time in the Seventh Astral Era, known as Bahamut. For millennia, his crimson burnt shadow casted upon the land of Eorzea, his dreadwyrm breathe frosted the plains as a woman stare into the wyrm's gaze. As death gathered in the wyrm's mouth, the woman prepared herself to accept her fate, but then a moment of lucid light gathered on the woman's skin. It warmed her as the lucid light formed arcane markings of the Seer wrapping her in protective magicks. As the wyrm started the release its ancient flare, it spoke:

"Thoust knowth the extent of thine ability, ignorant of thine might!"

Bahamut barely pierced the outer protective barrier of the woman's shielding branding her an arcane marking of crimson. She lay still as she is teleported via magicks of the Elder Seer along with those newly branded "Warriors of Light".  
This starts the story of the Archmagus.

Chapter One: Where am I?

A young boy crawls around in the plains Western Thanalan. He tries to stand, but it is injured from the seeq who saw the boy as slave to do their bidding and by bidding, the young seeq kicked the young darkly tan hume, insisting he carry their load of aether-crystal to the small unclaimed town. One of the young seeq pulls the hair of the young hume and asks,

"You want to know why you mother named, you Black?"

The young boy tries to catch his breathe. Before he's able to speak a single word the seeq struck him cleanly. In a southern accent, the seeq proclaims,

-hits the boy- "Because she knew 'ere going be Black and Blue mate."

A local gunsmith shoots his weapon in the air. It startles the small gang of seeq and the young boys run off. Black struggle to reclaim his balance as blood drools from his mouth and the aether-crystals fall promptly to the ground. The boy looks up to see a figure with a long barrel rifle at his side in front of the sunlight to later faint at his sight.  
A few moments later the boy wakes to notice he's in a stern bed unable to barely lift his small arms. He starts to look around the place and notices all the book shelves and sweeping brooms and a pot softly swirling itself.

"Where am I…?" the boy softly announces to the room.  
"You are in my steed boy." says a voice over in the distance.

The boy looks over to slowly at a respectably elderly woman dressed in great mage attire holding a cane.

"…Where is this?" the boy starts to ask.  
"We are on the outskirts of Ishgar, in the Dravanian Forelands. And you, my dear boy, had a rough three days."  
"Three days?!" the boy exclaims.  
"Yes, we had to place you in deep aether sleep just your heart beating"  
"We?"  
"Yeah, we." says a figure in the distance.

The boy looks over to a familiar faint silhouette lying against the wall. The figure slowly walks out near candlelight, rifle still attached to his waist.

"Matoya, are okay here?" exclaimed the rifleman.  
"You're leaving the boy in my care, are you?"  
"Well I figure you better than me, there's a lot of work to be done, and you're the b—"  
"Alright, alright! You owe me au 'ra. You know I don't forget."  
"I know young lady." as he checks and reloads his long-barreled pistol rifle and prepares to leave the vast library.  
"Wait—", says the slow moving Black. "…Thank you."  
The rifleman continues on his way as he leaves the study. Matoya returns to the boy and looks sternly at the boy's face, mostly towards the unique bandaging.

"What happened to your eye and face, dear boy?"

The boy chose to be silent and look away. Matoya closes her eyes and reveals that there is a dark aether sound this particular part of the boy's face.

"Hmm, you don't have to tell me if it's that important to you boy, but by the way, we've haven't properly introduced ourselves to each other. I am Matoya. I have settled here over a year after the Calamity, and have continued to study, and profess the arcane arts you currently see lively about. May ask you of your name boy?"

"I'm—", the boy hesitates to answer.  
"It's all okay, you are safe here child."  
"I— I'm Black… Black Silvius."  
"Silvius huh… Your mother was once of the greatest mages ever to be married into the Orunitia family. You're father… feared as the most dignified traitors of the realm… The one who unleashed Bahamut amongst the land of Eorzea… Child, they call you wyrmkin—"  
"Stop!" exclaims a very tired Black. "That name… that's not my name…!"  
"—Wyrmkin to the throne." Matoya stern but calmly to the young Black. The boy starts to tear up as his one exposed eye glows dim red.

"Tell me boy, do you require the strength to change your future?"  
"My future? I don't have one. My father is the reason Eorzea is shifted into the void sent roaming around today. I'm kin to our countries close demise! How could I possibly have the strength to change a nation?"

"By simply changing it." Matoya firmly taps her cane on the floor twice causing Black to levitate in the air. A rather larger body starts to form transparent around the boy's body as he goes into a deep slumber. Arcane chains slowly wrap around the boy's body.

"This boy… he will become the world's vessel of magic." The boy slowly is rested back nicely into the stern bed he once woke from.

"He will need to prepare himself for his future. He may not know where his fate lies, but the heart of this young does."

The boy calm and collected continues his slumber. Deep inside his dreams, a dark figure, dressed in all black with arcane mask. The figure speaks but words are not heard. The boy reaches out to this figure but he is consumed by the darkness ready to swallow him whole. As the boy, full ready to accept his drowning darkness, his chest fiercely burns bright and warm as the darkness is swallowed. A voice spoke,

"Hear."

The boy slowly becoming man awakes in his slumber feeling the warmth of the voice touch him.

"Hear. Feel."

The young man slowly is brought to his feet his body glows with a warm but milky light that dresses him appropriately. He sees the markings of Hydaelyn before him equally are six empty slots. The voice continues to talk to the boy,

"Hear. Feel. Think."

Black's light shines brightly dressing him in what appears to be a mage's coat replace his bandages with a wizard's hat, his hands in wizard's gloves, his footing in wizards pestosos, and his legs in a mage's tonban. He slowly looks up revealing darkness in his face only to reveal a glowing amber eye.


End file.
